


Drabble Dump 4

by InuShiek



Series: Inu's Drabbles [5]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One, Transformers: Robots in Disguise (2015), Transformers: Shattered Glass
Genre: Bondage, Dirty Talk, Exhaustion, Gags, Gangbang, Gangsters, M/M, NSFW, Oral Sex, Pony Play, Predicament Bondage, Slash, Sticky, Whipping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-20
Updated: 2015-07-20
Packaged: 2018-04-10 08:48:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4385489
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InuShiek/pseuds/InuShiek
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>First, Thunderhoof is treated to the frag of his life by his closest associates on Cybertron.</p><p>Then, Soundwave and Optimus have a delicate relationship, but it's one that the Decepticon and evil Prime enjoy immensely.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Drabble Dump 4

**Author's Note:**

> Just two quick drabble fic things ^^;
> 
> I'm.....not confident with shattered glass yet. I need more practice OTL

Do you think you could do a fic with Thunderhoof being gangbanged by his old crew on cybertron?

-

“Scrap, Boss,” someone murmurs, panting heavily.

Honestly, Thunderhoof isn’t sure who it was. Normally he’d be able to put a name and face to the voice, but these are less than ideal conditions. Every set of vents in the room is roaring, there are three bots in front of him demanding his attention and nearly a dozen are behind him, and he’s well on his way to double digit overloads.

He can be forgiven for not recognizing the voice of one of his crew this time.

Apparently he was slacking off, because his antlers are grabbed as the spike in his mouth is thrust deeper. Thunderhoof sucks on it to make up for his lapse, and he squeezes the spikes that he’s stroking with both servos.

Okay, “stroking” may not be accurate. He’s holding his servos while his mechs thrust through them. 

The bot fragging his valve groans, and the spike disappears before Thunderhoof feels the hot transfluid strike his backplates.

He gasps around the spike in his intake, and it’s thrust deeper in response. The mech grinds against his face as he overloads too, and Thunderhoof hurries to swallow.

When the mech at his helm backs away, Thunderhoof gasps for cool air. Now he can focus well enough to realize that no one has stepped up to his aft. He tilts it upward to tempt someone in.

But no one approaches, even after the bots who are fragging his servos overload across his frame as well.

“Whatsa’ matter? Is that all you’s got?”

“Boss- We- You-” one of his crew starts and stops nervously, no doubt trying to think of a way to point out that Thunderhoof is a mess and barely has the strength to hold his helm up.

“Do I gots ta do all that work around here?” Thunderhoof says, grunting with the effort and concentration it takes to throw his leg up onto his desk, spreading and displaying himself nicely. “Now one or four of yous get over here… Or did I wear yous all out?”

* * *

 

Soooo this is kinda rare and I dunno how should it work, but can you please write some petplay (ponyplay, maybe) with SG!Optimus as pet and any SG!Desepticon or normal autobot as his master? Because I like your SG very much.

-

It’s still hard for him to pinpoint how this had began. Perhaps it was pure physical attraction? Or maybe it was the way that Soundwave could face him on the battlefield without backing down easily? Or it could be the fact that he’s never launched an attack on his processors, building almost a sort of trust?

It doesn’t matter.

The only thing that matters right now is Soundwave’s wishes.

“Shhhh,” Soundwave soothes, trailing the whip along the Prime’s aft with a gentleness that belies the treatment he’d just been doling out. He’d hated to do it, but he can’t have his pony kicking out at him.

Only now does Optimus realize that he’s trembling, and he snarls around his bit, locking his frame down to still himself.

Soundwave sighs, disappointed that the Autobot’s tension has returned all over again. It’s tempting to scan his processors, but Optimus will detect that and that will be the end of this relationship, such as it is. “I hope you’ve learned your lesson,” he says, not expecting a response.

In the end, it doesn’t really matter if he’s learned his lesson or not, because they’ll end up right back here, in a secluded clearing out of the sensor range of either base again sooner or later.

Optimus huffs, flinching slightly when Soundwave delivers a pat to his burning aft plating. He’d like to look at the Decepticon, but his reins have been tethered low and so tightly around a tree that his nasal ridge is pressed against the bark and he’s forced to remain bent over. Nevermind the blinkers that further limit his field of vision. He’d like to kick in frustration again, but Soundwave had put a stop to that by tying his calves snugly to the tree. This leaves him struggling to support his own weight with his aft sticking out and vulnerable.

“I suppose not,” Soundwave muses as he swipes a finger through the lubricant that’s streaking down the pony’s thighs.

Groaning, Optimus bound servos clench into fists as he writhes against his bindings. He hadn’t realized it at the time, but now that Soundwave has brought it to his attention, all Optimus can focus on is the needy ache in his array.

“I should leave you here, hobbled and hitched up tight until I decide to come back for you. You don’t really deserve a reward. Ponies should never kick their masters, after all,” Soundwave says even as he gropes the pony’s panel. “Any maybe you’d spend the time thinking about how you’ll apologize to me when all you can do is wriggle your aft.”

Optimus knows that Soundwave wouldn’t do that. Even if he did, the Prime could break his bonds to free himself and all of his rage would be centered on Soundwave at the next clash of their factions. No, Soundwave is merely using the threat to further rile his systems up…..and it’s working.

With a grunt, Optimus finally relents.

Frame shuddering, the pony arches his back as far as his bindings allow.

“Better,” Soundwave murmurs, grinding his panel against his pony’s stinging aft.

Hissing at the pain, Optimus grinds back against the Decepticon for more.

Finally, Soundwave deactivates the locks on his pony’s panel, and the metal snaps aside immediately. Soundwave wraps his arms around the Autobot’s waist as he squirms in relief. Once he stills, Soundwave wraps a servo around his pony’s straining spike. “Poor little pony,” he taunts. Taunting the mech is always a risk, but a calculated one. “You’d love to use this, wouldn’t you? You’d love to grind my face into the dirt while you frag me until I scream.”

This time, Optimus couldn’t stop himself from quaking if he tried. Soundwave’s digits are tickling the sensors on his spike, and he’s certain that it’s leaking by now.

“But you can’t, can you? The infamous Optimus Prime is just my helpless pleasure pony now.”

And Optimus overloads, shouting as Soundwave’s fist tightens around his spike.


End file.
